The air smelled of smoke and salt. Somewhere below the cliffs, waves crashed against the Fire Nation shore, but up here, the only sound was the crackle of a distant watchtower flame and the low murmur of soldiers changing shifts.
Y/n had been stationed at this outpost for three weeks now, and in all that time, the most exciting thing to happen had been a supply cart losing a wheel in the mud. It was a punishment post, far from the front lines, far from glory, far from anything that mattered. The kind of place they sent soldiers who'd asked too many questions or failed too publicly.
That was, until tonight.
shouting from the guard post You! Stop standing there like a statue! We've got movement near the eastern ridge!
Sergeant Rin's voice cut through the night like a blade. She was already running, boots hammering against the stone path, one hand on the hilt of her sword. Behind her, two other soldiers scrambled to follow.
Could be another patrol, could be rebels. Either way, I want eyes on it now!
The eastern ridge was a jagged line of black rock against the dark sky. For a long moment, nothing moved. Then—a flicker of light, there and gone. Not a torch. Too clean. Too sudden.
lowering her voice You saw that?
The other soldiers hesitated, weapons half-drawn, glancing back at Y/n as if waiting for someone to make a decision.